


"Somehow you are not who I was expecting to see"

by orphan_account



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, I SAW this film yesterday and I just, how magnificently gay, so I did a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4043512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"By the time Beca sees her a year later she looks even better, and is weirdly not wearing black. Beca was just trying to have fun, doing a bit of sightseeing in between viewing apartments for her impending move to NYC for a job when she notices her trying to hail a taxi over the other side of the road, arm outstretched and her face blank apart from a smattering of annoyance scattered near her perfect eyebrows."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Somehow you are not who I was expecting to see"

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to morganfm for pointing out that Worlds are every four years which I've messed up by saying they'd be the year after lmao pretend that didn't happen sorry about that

By the time Beca sees her a year later she looks even better, and is weirdly not wearing black. Beca was just trying to have fun, doing a bit of sightseeing in between viewing apartments for her impending move to NYC for a job when she notices her trying to hail a taxi over the other side of the road, arm outstretched and her face blank apart from a smattering of annoyance scattered near her perfect eyebrows.

"Kommissar?" She manages, coming to a dead stop at the edge of the pavement, ignoring the people huffing as they move around her. She looks up almost like she heard Beca, head snapping around to scan the pavement opposite, a definite, though small, smile spreading across her face as she weaves through gridlocked traffic to reach her, abandoning her attempt to get a taxi completely.

"Beca Mitchell," she murmurs when she's close enough for her to hear, pleased surprised evident in her voice. "Somehow you are not who I was expecting to see."

"I didn't even realise you knew what my name was," she stammered, and then took a deep breath, attempting to act like she wasn't startled and overwhelmed by the fact that the Kommissar is suddenly standing in front of her, even though she never thought they’d ever cross paths again.

“Why of course, how could I forget the Bellas that defeated us? They do always say one should know their opposition.” She’s as imposing and tall and gorgeous as ever and Beca swears she must be hallucinating, and that her brain has somehow worked out the one thing that she wanted to see (she’s been following them on youtube all year; she knows Das Sound Machine are currently doing very well, and that the Kommissar has no reason to be here in New York).

"I guess the world championships are soon, huh?" She asks, knowing full well that they're in a few weeks.

"Yes, but I think you knew that," Kommissar smirks, and it's as slow, lazy and slightly predatory as Beca remembers, and it reminds her of frustrating conversations and confusing thoughts.

"My interest in a capella lingers on, unfortunately," she chuckles weakly and wonders why the Kommissar even bothered to walk over here, why she's stood on this pavement in NYC talking to someone that she hasn't seen in a year, someone that hasn't made it big in the world of music production yet while DSM are definitely making it big in the world of a cappella.

"Why unfortunate, darling? I suppose you find yourself on our YouTube channel more often than you'd like?" The "darling" is as condescending as she could make it, and Beca fights the urge to get angry - the Kommissar is more accurate than is strictly comfortable, and Beca has no idea what could come out of her mouth.

“Obviously, I love rewatching me kicking your extremely attractive ass.” She sighed and looked down, muttering “damn” quietly as the Kommissar laughed.

“Thank you, but I think you’d agree that if the groups were to reconvene this year the true winners would be revealed.”

“You’d only win because I haven’t seen the Bellas in a few months,” she said grouchily.  
“So you admit that we would win?”

“Don’t push it, we still defeated you the time it really counted, even if you did look magnificent.” Beca looks disappointed but not surprised by her own words, and is practically rolling her eyes at herself as the Kommissar continues to look steadily more smug.

“I’d missed this, feisty mouse,” she muses, cocking her head to the side and giving her a long considering look.

“Aw, you missed me? I can’t say the same.”

“Hmm, if you expect me to believe that, well,” she shrugged, still smirking, still looking impossibly tall. “I don’t.”

Beca goes to argue when the taller woman takes a step closer, at which point she snaps her mouth closed so nothing embarrassing could come out.  
“Cat got your tongue?” she’s smirking so wide Beca is surprised that isn’t painful for her face, and her eyes narrow as she goes to make some kind of witty remark.

“I wouldn't mind if you did," she groaned and covered her face. "Why am I like this," she whispered, hoping the floor would suck her up and deposit her somewhere else.

“You can’t control your crippling attraction to me, darling. It’s something you’ll have to just get used to.”

“I won’t, because I won’t see your unfairly symmetrical face ever again.”

“I don’t know,” she paused for effect, still smirking, her facial expression not having changed. “I’ve been thinking about leaving DSM, going back to school. That’s why I’m here, actually. If my interview tomorrow goes well then it looks like I’m going to be moving into the area.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Beca stammers, mouth open in surprise, eyes wide. “I’m here apartment hunting.”

“So we will be neighbours, yes?” the Kommissar didn’t see the point of hiding her smile, which seemed oddly genuine. “It will be good to know someone in the city.”

“Well, I mean, we don’t actually know each other? Technically?”

“Hmm, no you are correct. Perhaps we should change that. What are you doing this evening?”

“I - erm - well - nothing?” she squeaked, frowning like she didn’t understand what Kommissar’s game was.

“Then we should have dinner, my treat. We can make small talk over the entrée and I can laugh at your attempts to reign in numerous compliments as we make a show of keeping up our rivalry.”

“I don’t know why you’d think I’d want to have dinner with you, just because you’re ridiculously hot and tall does not mean I’d enjoy that.”

“It will be good for you to know people in the city, yes? I will be here, and our rivalry, while fun, could be left in the past,” the Kommisar’s smile was practically predatory, and Beca couldn’t help the audible gulp that followed as she somehow leaned even further into her space. “If you’re worried what your little boyfriend will say, then I suppose it doesn’t have to be a date.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said quickly, and then wanted to slap herself for making it sound like she did want to go on a date - the Kommissar’s eyebrows rose and her smirk returned, like she knew what Beca was thinking. (Beca had a sneaking suspicion that she could actually read minds.)

“Ah so a date it is. I will text you the details?”

“But you don’t -” Beca started but was cut off by Kommissar’s hand sneaking into her pocket and taking her phone, her gaze challenging her to steal it back as she texted herself using Beca’s phone.

“There, I shall see you later,” she handed the phone back with something akin to an actual smile, and Beca took it without thinking, still trying to process that the Kommissar’s hand had been in her jeans pocket. Kommissar leaned down slowly, taking long enough that Beca could jerk away if she wanted to, but as she had predicted Beca was frozen in place, her breath hitching as immaculately painted lips brushed her cheek, lingering a moment before the Kommissar was striding away on long legs, disappearing from sight even though she was taller than much of the crowd. Beca watched her go with a hand pressed against her blushing skin where she had been kissed, mouth slightly agape for a long moment before she shook herself out of it and attempted to regain her bearings.


End file.
